


The Definition Of Moving On

by TheInevitableSense



Series: A List Of Definitions [7]
Category: Crucible Cast Party - SNL Sketch, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton: Supportive Dad Friend To The Extreme, Cody Shuck: Finally Getting Back On His Feet, Gratuitous Theatre, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, James Madison: Tired Of Thomas' Bullshit, M/M, P.J.: Cool Dude Harbors Crush More At Eleven, Self-Hatred, The Kiss Of The Spider Woman References, Thomas Jefferson: Depressed And Drunk Sack Of Shit, abuse recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 01:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8947291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInevitableSense/pseuds/TheInevitableSense
Summary: “I think I want to start acting again,” Cody announces one night over take-out.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exadorlion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exadorlion/gifts).



> Is anyone to blame anymore?
> 
> (Do I need to say it?)

“I think I want to start acting again,” Cody announces one night over take-out. Alexander looks up from his phone.

“Okay,” he says. Cody’s brow furrows.

“You’re not protesting?”

“Why would I?” Alexander shrugs. “If you think you’re ready, you’re ready.” Alexander watches as Cody picks at his Chinese. “Do you have a plan?”

“...my old theatre is holding open auditions for a show next week,” Cody mutters. “I was thinking I could try there first.”

Alexander shoves a spoonful of rice in his mouth, thinking. Cody had said that he had a mental breakdown during the month he and Thomas had been ‘broken up’ and gotten fired from the project he’d been on. Cody hadn’t said what it was about or what caused it, but it had to have been bad.

“Alright. What’s the show?”

“ _The Kiss of The Spider Woman_ ,” Cody recites. “It’s a musical.”

“Really? Never heard of it.”

“It’s not all that popular. I don’t think it’s all that great, but it’s what they’re doing so…” Cody trails.

“You could always try a different company,” Alexander suggests. Cody shakes his head.

“I wanna go back there first. See if they’ll take me back. Familiar faces, you know.”

Alexander considers it for a moment, sees the logic. “Whatever you think’s best.”

\------------

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Alexander asks as Cody climbs out of the car. The younger man clutches his resume and sheet music to his chest. Cody eyes the theatre, _his_ theatre, looks at the ‘Auditions Today!’ sign and shakes his head.

“I think I’ve got it,” he says.

“Okay. Don’t push yourself. Don’t be afraid to call me.”

“Alright, dad,” Cody drawls. Alexander smiles. “You know, someone’s going to think you really are my dad one day.” Alexander snorts and shakes his head.

“Good luck son.”

“It’s ‘break a leg,’” Cody says haughtily, but there’s a smile on his face. Alexander rolls his eyes as Cody shuts the door. He doesn’t drive away until Cody opens the door to the theatre though. _He really does act like my dad_.

The lobby of the theatre is the same as it’s always been: Expensive-looking, yet cheap, patterned carpet and bright green walls. People mill about the small space, but Cody can see the sign-in table through the crowd. Fighting down his anxiety, Cody pushes through the group and to the table. There’s someone ahead of him so he stands in place and fidgets. He doesn’t look around, doesn’t check to see if anyone recognizes him. The longer he stands here, the more he starts to convince himself that this was a bad idea.

 _Alexander was right. I should pick a different theatre, a different show,_ he thinks to himself. _I should go, before it’s too late, just turn around and_ -

“Cody?” The man at the booth asks as the guy in front of Cody moves away. Cody tenses, almost afraid to see which one of his old co-workers is here, but he drag his eyes up anyway. Almost immediately, he relaxes.

“P.J,” he breaths, a smile crawling across his face. He looks at his good friend, a muscular Filipino guy with a bright grin. “How’s it been man?” Cody asks.

“Great! Just great.” P.J. leans forward in his seat. “Cody Shuck, back for open auditions. I was afraid I’d never see you again!”

Cody lets out a nervous laugh. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. Hey, what are _you_ doing running auditions?” He deflects. P.J.’s grin spreads wider.

“They made me assistant stage manager! I’m moving up in the world.”

“Wow, congrats,” Cody says, shifting the papers in his hands to clap quietly for his friend. “Does that mean Poppy’s gone?” P.J nods.

“Yeah, she’s gone across town, thank god. Hey, Belinda’s here, I think. I’ll go grab her.” Before Cody can protest, P.J.’s up and slipping backstage. Cody lets out a sigh, glancing behind him to make sure no one’s waiting, and waits. One of the auditionees looks at him oddly, and Cody just smiles and nods back. Eventually, P.J. returns, a tall woman trailing behind him.

“Ta da!” P.J. throws his hands out in Cody’s direction, and Cody smiles and waves. Belinda plants her hands on her hips.

“The Shuckster, as I live and breathe,” she says.

“Hey, Bel,” Cody chuckles. “You look great.” Bel smiles and crosses to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Finally got my hormones,” she says.

“That’s great! I’m so happy for you.” Cody grins as she pulls back. They lock eyes and suddenly she’s scanning his face.

“You’ve lost weight,” she says. Cody nods, smile straining a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, course,” Cody lies, “why wouldn’t I be?”

P.J comes up beside Bel, a look of concern on his face. “Dude, the last time we saw you-”

“That’s in the past, I’m fine now,” Cody interrupts. He slides out of Bel’s arms and throws his resume on the table. His two friends share a look, and P.J. slides back into his seat.

“I think we’ve still got your resume on file, man,” he says, jotting Cody’s name down on a paper.

“Brought it just in case,” Cody explains. P.J. shakes his head.

“The one time you’re prepared…” he jokes, but the joking atmosphere is gone now. Bel’s eyes are still scanning him, her gaze hard and smart enough Cody swears she can see right through him and she already knows everything. P.J. fills in a few things on a form, then looks up.

“You know, I _could_ get you in next, if you’d like,” he offers. Cody blinks.

“No, I couldn’t ask you-”

“No, it’s cool! I’m sure Lloyd would love to see you.” Someone slips out of the stage door and P.J. smiles. “Convenient timing, let’s get you in there!”

“P.J., I-” Cody protests, but P.J. grabs him by the wrist, throws open the door and leads him inside.

“Lloyd! Tim! Look who showed up!” P.J. calls out into the lit theatre. The director and stage manager turn in their seats, and Lloyd cocks an eyebrow.

“Cody Shuck,” he announces. “Mr. ‘Fuck-you-I-don’t-need-this-I-only-need-my-boyfriend.’” Cody winces as P.J. pulls him down the aisle.

“Lloyd, I…” he struggles to find the words. “I’m so sorry about that,” is what he settles on. The director eyes him as Tim starts to shuffle a few papers on the table in front of the duo. “I shouldn’t…. I didn’t mean… _well_ , I did but…”

P.J. finally stops as they reach the two men. Lloyd looks up at Cody, curiosity in his eyes. Cody stops, biting his lip. Lloyd motions with one hand. “No, go on. I’m sure there’s an explanation in there somewhere.”

Cody hesitates, squirming under the combined gazes of Lloyd and Tim. P.J. still hasn’t released the grip on his arm, and he tries to use that to ground himself. Cody takes a breath and forces himself to maintain eye-contact. “There’s no excuse for the things I said, but I…” Cody fights down the rising shame and presses on “I was in a really bad place. I was having a full on physiological break,” _thank you Franklin for that phrase_ , “but I’m better now! I promise, nothing like that will _ever_ happen again.” _I won’t let it_ , Cody finishes in his head.

Lloyd and Tim look at one another, hold a silent conversation which ends with Lloyd sighing. “Alright, Cody,” he concedes. “Get on up there, let's see what you’ve got.” Cody can’t contain the gleeful smile that breaks out on his face as he scrambles up the stage steps. “Yeah, yeah, don’t look at me like that. I haven’t hired you _yet_ ,” Lloyd grumbles. Cody centers himself on stage and looks expectantly back at the three men in the audience. P.J. shoots him a thumbs up before heading back out the door.

“Okay, let’s start on page three…”

\----------

“ _Alexander!_ ” Cody shrieks. In a flash, Alex is up off the couch and running for Cody’s room. Thousands of scenarios- _bad ‘Alex’ day, Thomas has contacted him-_ flash through his mind- _his scars opened somehow, he’s relapsing-_ as he crosses the small apartment. Though the distance can only be a few feet, Alexander feels like he runs miles to get to Cody. He throws open the bedroom door, already prepared for the worst.

But Cody’s grinning, looking down at his laptop. He’s sitting on his bed, back against the wall and almost bouncing up and down. Alexander feels relief flood his body as he crosses to the bedside. “Look! Look!” Cody flips the laptop around and points to a part of the screen. Alexander peers at it: it’s the website for Cody’s theatre.

The audition results are up.

“ _I’m back in the game_!” Cody exclaims. Somehow, it’s beyond Alexander how, Cody’s gotten one of three leads. Alexander looks up at the younger man. He’s beaming, so obviously overjoyed, and Alexander grins back.

“I’m proud, son.”

“Shut up, dad.”

\------------

The table read is that Monday, so Cody’s a bundle of nerves and excitement all weekend. ‘Alex’ even manages to stay away the entire time, which on it’s own is something to be glad about. Cody works his voice, having noticed during his practice for auditions that his range has suffered from a month of disuse.

“I swear to god, if I have to hear that ‘Dressing them up’ song _one more time_ ,” Alexander threatens over breakfast Monday morning, “I am marching down to that theatre and getting you yanked from the show.”

Cody just grins at him. He’s too excited to even banter with Alexander, even if he feels almost sick to his stomach at the thought of food. He chokes down breakfast anyway, chasing it with honey, and practically _bounces_ around the apartment as Alexander finishes his own food.

“Come on,” he begs, throwing Alexander’s keys onto the table in front of him. Alexander looks at them, then up at Cody with an eyebrow cocked.

“I will take all the time I want,” he says, slowly sipping on his coffee. Cody groans.

“You normally eat at the speed of light, _lets go_.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Alexander counters, but throws his eggs down his throat faster anyway.

When they get to the theatre, Alexander follows Cody in, needing the bathroom. “If _someone_ had let me _take my time_ , like I _wanted_ …”

“Shut up old man. Don’t blame your bladder on me,” Cody teases, pushing open the door. P.J.’s in the lobby again, and he grins as Cody comes in.

“The prodigal son returns!” P.J. exclaims. Then his brow furrows. “And he’s brought his dad?”

For a heartbeat, Cody is confused, looks back at Alexander and barks a laugh. “No, no. This isn’t my dad, he’s my roommate. We just...look alike.”

“No shit.” P.J. sticks his hand out to Alexander and introduces himself. Alexander does the same, then disappears into the bathroom. P.J. turns to Cody. “How in the _hell_ did you meet your clone?”

Cody smiles. “Long story.” P.J. just shakes his head. “Usual room?”

“Yep,” P.J. says, popping the ‘p.’ Cody thanks him and heads off. “By the way,” P.J. calls, just before Cody walks away. “I fought for you. Tim wasn’t keen on putting you in a major role. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t,” Cody promises. When he makes it to the table room, he opens the door and the room falls silent. There are familiar faces and new ones alike, all eyeing him cautiously, but one of the old one smiles.

“Ya know, I saw your name on the list and didn’t _quite_ believe it,” he says.

“Ha ha, nice to see you too, Kevin,” Cody teases, and the room relaxes. Cody finds a corner and plants himself in it, saying hi to the people he knows but otherwise drowning in the shame crawling on his back. Eventually, everyone arrives and Lloyd gets the read started. Cody does well through act one, finding his groove even as he blocks out the thoughts that plague him- _you’re not good enough, they don’t want you here, this is a mistake_.

Then they hit act two and things start falling apart. There’s a song- “Anything for him”- Cody’s been avoiding, even when listening to the soundtrack, and suddenly he realizes that _he’s_ going to have to read it, _sing_ it eventually. It creeps up slowly, consuming Cody’s thoughts until it arrives. He looks around the room, but nothing has changed for anyone else in the small cast. It’s just him that starts to shake as he looks down at the script in his hands.

 _I’d do anything for him/he must know_.

Cody tries to control the quaver in his voice as he reads the song, speaking the lyrics even as his mouth tries to revolt against it. No one seems to notice, but Cody feels like he’s dying.

 _I’d do anything for him/I want him so_ … _Please God, let him turn around/and look at me._

His hands tremble even as he finishes his first verse and the other male lead- Kevin- takes over. The paper is becoming near unreadable and Cody puts it down on the table so no one can see how hard it’s becoming for him to stay calm. He has to make it through the read. Lloyd is counting on him, _P.J.’s_ counting on him.

The second verse is just as hard as the first, but somehow he makes it through. Act two isn’t over yet, though, but the worst part is over. Cody struggles through the rest of it, the final number coming to a monotone end, and he lets out a breath. People around him are all talking, complimenting each other but Cody is just relieved that it’s over.

“Alright, take ten. Sing-through starts after break,” Lloyd announces. In a flash, Cody is up from his chair and he almost jogs to the bathroom. Alexander is long gone, and Cody’s alone but that’s just fine. His hands are still shaking as he fumbles with the tap and throws water on his face. He starts counting in his head, trying to breathe deep.

 _You’re not good enough_ , _you can’t even make it through one read-through, god, you’re pathetic_.

Cody can feel ‘Alex’ start to rise in his head and he hits the counter. _No_ , _not now_. He screws his eyes shut and starts his count over again. He manages to steady himself enough to start muttering to himself: “Your name is Cody Shuck. You are safe. You are loved. Your name is Cody Shuck. You are safe. You are loved. Your name is-”

“Cody?” P.J. sticks his head into the bathroom. “We’re ready to start...are you okay?”

Cody nods, mutely. “Give me thirty seconds, yeah?”

“Yeah okay.” P.J. hesitates. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Mhm. I’m fine though, don’t worry, please.” Cody tries to smile at him in the mirror. P.J. doesn’t look convinced. He purses his lips.

“You, me, drinks, after sing-through,” P.J. commands. “Like old times.”

“Like old times,” Cody agrees, and P.J. leaves. _Like old times_. ‘Old times’ feels like so long ago though.

\----------

“You still sound amazing, Cody,” P.J. admits, swirling a beer. “Even after a month off. You had no reason to be nervous.”

“Thanks,” Cody replies, sipping his own drink. Franklin had told him to stay away from alcohol, but as long as he didn’t get _drunk_ , Cody figures he’s okay. If anything, Alexander was a text away. Besides, he needs one after the hell “Anything for Him” puts him through. The bar around him is loud, but it’s not loud like one Cody had met Thomas in. P.J. had actually suggested that place, but Cody had felt sick at the thought of walking back in there, so here they were instead.

“So what’s eating you up?” P.J. asks, taking a sip. Cody cocks an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” He asks, knowing exactly what P.J. means. P.J. just matches Cody’s expression, over exaggerating it so that Cody laughs.

“Is it really that obvious?” He chuckles. P.J. nods.

“To me, yeah.” P.J. points at Cody with the mouth of his beer bottle. “You can’t fool me, Cody Shuck.” Cody shakes his head and looks down at the bar.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, okay? It’s all in the past.” Cody traces the lines in the wooden bar top, praying that P.J. will let the subject drop. P.J. leans forward and puts his hand on Cody’s wrist.

“Look, Cody. You were the closest friend I had at work. You used to be so lively and fun. Then you have this meltdown and you disappear for a couple of months? I mean, _completely_ disappear. Not a word to anyone. When I said I was afraid I’d never see you again, I meant it. So, spill it. Tell me what happened.”

Cody lets out a breath. He can’t bring himself to look up at his friend, and when he speaks, it’s in a mutter so quiet P.J. has to lean in to hear. “Thomas. Thomas happened.”

“Thomas? Your boyfriend that I never met?”

Cody grimaces, but nods. “He…” There’s no way to sugarcoat it so Cody just admits: “he was abusive.”

“He hit you?” P.J. asks, shock in his voice. Cody quickly shakes his head.

“No, never. It was… emotional. Psychological. He used to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough for him. Like nothing I did would get him to love me. But at the same time, he made everything about himself. Like… he fucked with my head. Made me _obsessed_ with him. I stopped thinking about myself as a person, I was just an extension of _him_.”

Cody can feel the shock and pity rolling off his friend, but he grits himself and goes on. “We had an argument one morning, the only morning he stayed after sex. He told me… He told me he was only with me because I looked like his ex.”

“No,” P.J. breathes.

“Yeah. That… that really fucked me up. Then he left for a whole month. My break down at work was… maybe two weeks into that month? Time sort of… fell apart for me. I spent so much time trying to ‘better’ myself for Thomas. I changed everything about me so I could be good enough. And I mean _everything_. It didn’t work, obviously. But I thought I was _so_ in love. I thought I _needed_ that man.”

Cody drinks the rest of his beer without thinking, almost choking on it as he fights down the tears forming in his eyes. P.J. hesitates, then puts his hand on Cody’s shoulder. Cody leans into the touch. He feel’s P.J.’s hand trail across where he knows the scars to be and he flinches. P.J. immediately pulls his hand away, but Cody misses the contact.

“How… how did you get out?” P.J. asks.

“The ex found me,” Cody says, laughter in his voice to try and head off the sobs. He realizes, belatedly, that P.J. is the first person since Franklin he’s told the story to. “I… might have broken into the ex’ apartment at one point.”

“Might?”

“Okay, I did,” Cody admits. “And, of course, the ex knew someone had, but he thought it was Thomas. They worked together, and the ex tried to confront Thomas after work but ended up finding me in the process. _He’s_ the one who convinced me to talk to a doctor. I ended up getting hospitalized for a few weeks, P.J.. That’s how bad it was. If it weren’t for him, I’d still probably be sitting in my own delusions, trying to win Thomas over.”

Cody doesn’t look at P.J., doesn’t want to see the pity- or worse, disappointment- in his face. The latent feeling of shame crawls up Cody’s throat and it makes him fall silent. He feels like everyone in the bar is listening, judging him, knows how weak and stupid he is. He hears P.J. gasp.

“Alexander,” he breathes. “He’s the ex.”

“Yep,” Cody pops the ‘p’ hard, like P.J. likes to do. He curls over the bar, unwilling to look up. P.J. leans forward over the bar, and mutters:

“Cody, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t. There’s nothing that needs to be said,” Cody counters. P.J. shakes his head, his hand moves from Cody’s wrist to his hand and squeezes.

“Everyone at the theatre supports you, we all care.”

“Thanks, Peej,”

“I mean it, Cody,” P.J. insists. Cody finally looks up at him, but there’s none of the disappointment Cody expects on his face. It’s love, support, compassion. Cody smiles.

“I know.” Cody turns back to the bar, and looks down at his empty glass. “I’d do anything for him,” he sings, quietly. P.J. squeezes his hand again.

\------------

Thomas doesn’t regret quitting his job. He can sleep as long as his body will let him, curled up and forgetting what he’s done. When he’s awake, he stumbles around his house in a daze. Sally is over more often than she’s not, and James still won’t give him back his lace-up shoes, never mind anything else.

He sneaks in alcohol, though. Sally’s daughter, Harriet, gives it to him. She has to work behind her mother’s back, but Thomas is grateful. He doesn’t ask why she does it, doesn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He waits until Sally or James leaves him alone before he drinks. Whenever they catch him they take it from him, but Thomas gets good at hiding it. Facing himself is easier through the haze of booze; the hangovers distract him until he can start drinking again.

“This isn’t healthy,” James admonishes, pouring a confiscated bottle of wine down the drain. “You need to get out of the house. See a therapist, _come back to work_. Anything but sit here and drink yourself to death.”

Thomas shrugs, already plotting how to get the bottle of Jack Daniels out of the fireplace without James seeing. James must see his disinterest in his eyes because he hits the countertop to draw Thomas’ attention. “Thomas, I swear…” he trails muttering to himself. “What do you need?” James snaps. “What _is_ it you need to get over yourself? It’s been months, Thomas.”

Thomas shrugs again, pretending like he doesn’t know exactly what he needs.

\------------

“Anything for Him” slowly gets easier. Cody just tries not to think about it too hard. It helps that Kevin looks nothing like Thomas, shorter and olive-skinned. There’s chemistry between them, belligerent and mocking, but stage chemistry nonetheless.

And it takes a few rehearsals, but Cody finds his place in the cast again, feels himself loosening up. Lloyd stops looking at him like a bomb ready to go off, and more like he used to. Not friendly, but warm. Kevin teases him relentlessly, and Bel won’t stop mothering him and demanding he spill his guts, but Cody loves it.

When Alexander picks him up after work every day, he’s bursting with stories from rehearsal and Alexander just listens. Once, Alexander remarks that he knows Cody’s friends too well for having never met them. Cody remedies that, inviting Alexander out for drinks with the rest of them on a Friday. P.J. takes to the older man instantly, and Bel tries to draw Cody’s story out of him, but Alexander smiles and deflects.

On the drive home, Alexander turns to Cody and says: “You really like these people, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Cody exclaims. Alexander laughs.

“Good. You do well around them.”

“Do… well?” Cody looks at him in confusion. Alexander motions with one hand vaguely.

“You’re yourself with them.”

Cody huffs. “Who else would I be?” He asks, teasingly, though both of them know who he could be

\-----------

“...and for the final number,” the customer says, digging through a rack of clothes, “I was thinking, because it’s a dying man’s hallucination and all… here!” Brook straightens, pulling a mass of sparkly, black fabric out of the rack. “This little number. All slinky and… sensual.”

Brook holds the dress out to Lloyd, picking up one of the sleeves and showing him the glittering fabric. It’s black under the sparkles, floor length and obviously going to cling to Cody’s skin. Though dresses aren’t usually Cody’s thing, he’s seized with the desire to at least try it on. Lloyd hums. “Try it on.”

Cody grins, grabbing the hanger from Brook’s hands. He’s enthusiastic, feeling the soft fabric between his fingers and backing towards the dressing room before he notices it. He stops, dead in his tracks, pulling the front of the dress to confirm what he _thinks_ is true.

“Something wrong, Cody?” Brooke asks. “Is it ripped?”

“No, no, I…” he looks up at the two of them, trying to convey how suddenly uncomfortable he feels in one expression. “It’s backless.”

“Is that a problem?” Lloyd asks. Cody bites his lip and looks back down at the dress in his arms.

“It… it might be,” he admits. “I have scars up and down my back.” Brooke looks at Lloyd, who shrugs.

“It could work. You have been in Venezuelan prison for a while,” Lloyds says, thoughtfully. “Lemme see.”

Cody hides the wince, and nods. Without a word he slips into the dressing room. Before he can think about it, he puts the dress on, feeling the fabric slide across his skin. When it’s settled on his shoulders, Cody looks at himself in the mirror. From the front, he looks great. The cut of the dress fits just right around his collarbones, but it could be let out a little around his hips. Steeling himself, he turns his back to the mirror and looks over his shoulder.

Almost instantly, he snaps his head back around. The scars are very much on display, and depending on the lighting of the scene, might even get accented on stage. The shame and regret that bubbles in his chest threatens to make him sick, but he can’t break now. He takes as many deep breaths as he thinks time allows him, and leaves the room before Lloyd or Brooke get worried.

When Cody walks back into the costume room, Brooke whistles. “Hips need some tailoring, but hot damn,” she remarks. Lloyd smiles, obviously pleased with the way it looks. He twirls his finger, a request for Cody to spin, and Cody complies. When his back is bared to the two, he hears Brooke try and muffle a gasp.

“When you said scars…” Lloyd trails, disbelief in his voice. Cody feels the shame rise to his face, and he nods without looking at them.

“Yeah,” he chokes out. There’s a moment of silence as the two behind him digest what they’re seeing. Cody screws his eyes shut, his mind casting about to find some plausible explanation for them if and when someone asks about his back. Lloyd coughs.

“Well, if you’re comfortable with it, I think it’ll look amazing,” he says. Cody hesitates, biting his lip. He hears someone move behind him, and suddenly there’s fabric being draped around his shoulders.

“ _I_ think we should add a shawl. Give him some elegance,” Brooke says. Cody nods, relief flooding his chest. Lloyd hums.

“Alright. Shawl it is.”

Cody mutters a ‘thank you’ in Brooke’s direction, and practically runs back to the dressing room to peel the dress off.

\-----------

Thomas sees the advertisement in the newspaper one day. He gets an idea. He knows how to get what he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> All the characters in Cody's theatre (minus P.J. and Kevin) are named after characters in the British Comedy NOISES OFF, which is fucking hilarious and if you ever get a chance to see it done by a good company, do it. You won't regret it, especially if you have _any_ theatrical experience.
> 
> THE KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN is a real musical, I saw it once and thought it was alright. Then I realized I could use it for angst and suddenly I loved it.


End file.
